


Tinselitis

by Fire_Bear



Series: Walking in a Winter Wonderland [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bad Flirting, Christmas, Doctor/Patient, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, maybe also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13037808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Alfred has managed to hurt his ankle badly on Christmas Day. He thinks it's no fun to be in the ER on Christmas day - but he might change his mind when he meets his doctor...





	Tinselitis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zeplerfer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeplerfer/gifts).



Someone had decorated the ER, Alfred noticed through his pain. There was tinsel on the walls, high enough to not cause a hazard. Small Christmas trees had been put on the reception desk. The receptionists themselves were wearing Santa hats: Alfred had a sudden vision of the decorator getting carried away and placing the hats on their heads without them noticing. He was unable to keep back a snort of laughter.

"Stop that," said Matthew, jostling him by way of a reprimand. Alfred winced and Matthew grimaced. "Sor-"

"Not your fault," Alfred said through gritted teeth. "Can we please just sit down somewhere?"

"Right." Matthew deposited him onto one of the chairs in the little rows. "Let me just go talk to the receptionists to find out how long we'll have to wait."

"Okay."

Matthew disappeared and Alfred finally let himself pull faces at the pain which shot through him whenever he shifted. He wasn't sure he could feel his ankle – or his foot, for that matter. All that was there was a throbbing mess. Alfred was too scared to look down at it but he hoped it wasn't too bad. It was, after all, Christmas Day. He wanted to go home for dinner!

"Hey, Al," said Matthew and Alfred sat upright, surprised that he'd been drifting off, head resting against the back of the chair. Looking around, he found that his brother was accompanied by a nurse pushing a wheelchair.

"Aw, man!" said Alfred. "Do I really need to?"

"Yup," Matthew replied, unsympathetically. "I've filled in the form and the nurse has got you a bed. Come on."

With gentle hands and a lot of counts to three, Matthew managed to help Alfred onto one leg before he dropped him into the wheelchair. Alfred almost protested but the cheerful nurse spoke. "Great! Let's get you fixed up, hm?"

"Thanks... uh?" said Alfred, leaning his head back so he could look up at the man. He seemed to be upside down from his vantage point.

"Feliciano," said the nurse. "Pleased to meet you. Have you been having a good Christmas? Before having to come here, I mean."

"Yeah! I mean, have you seen the snow?"

"From the windows, yes!" Feliciano said, excitedly.

"It's awesome. A white Christmas, dude! How often do we get one of them?" He cut off with a hiss as the wheelchair bumped into a set of swinging doors.

"Oh, sorry!" exclaimed Feliciano. He didn't sound contrite but Alfred didn't mind since his bubbly personality was better than having some scary person looking after him. "I'll give you something for that," Feliciano continued, "when we get to the bed. Then Doctor Kirkland will come have a look at you."

"Cool," said Alfred.

Feliciano continued on his way through the hospital, passing by people with other broken limbs or people who seemed to be unconscious. Alfred shivered as he noticed them and hoped they'd be able to have a good Christmas once they'd gotten better. Finally, they arrived at a bed beside one whose curtains had been pulled around it. There was voices from beyond it and Alfred tried not to listen.

"Right," Feliciano said once he'd pushed the wheelchair around until it was facing outwards. "Let's get you onto the bed and get some painkillers into you."

With some manoeuvring, they managed it, though Alfred jarred his leg at one point. He yelped in pain and screwed up his face as his vision darkened briefly. Thankfully, he stayed conscious and his arm was soon hooked up to an IV. He watched the liquid dripping.

Once Feliciano had bustled away with a happy grin, Matthew sat down on the chair beside his bed. "I can't believe I'm in the ER with you. Today."

"Sorry, Mattie."

"I hope you've learned your lesson."

"Yup. Never doing that again," Alfred assured him.

Matthew snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it," he said. "I'm fairly sure I remember a younger version of you doing the exact same thing with similar consequences."

"Oh, come _on_ , Mattie. Don't go dredging up the past like that! Not cool!"

"It's not my fault you're doomed to repeat everything, whether it's good for you or not."

" _Mattie_ ," Alfred whined, though not as loudly as normal. It took him a moment to work out what was wrong with his voice and realised that he was feeling... _really_ good. The pain was completely gone. He kind of felt a little... floaty. Alfred tried not to grin and ended up grinning at his brother regardless. Matthew raised an eyebrow; when Alfred didn't respond or react, he frowned.

"Al?"

"The painkillers are working," Alfred informed him, seeing as he seemed to be confused.

"Ah," said Matthew, his own grin slowly forming. "So it's going to be just like last time."

"Huh?"

At that point, a doctor swept into their area and grabbed the clipboard off the end of his bed. Alfred had to blink a few times to get his eyes to focus. It wasn't that his vision had gone blurry. Somehow, his vision had gone... wavy. As if he was lost at sea and bobbing around.

Finally, he was able to make the man out – and almost fainted from shock. The doctor was straight up _hot_. Messy blond hair, like he'd been running his hand through it. Thick eyebrows. Legs which went on forever. Brilliant, bright green eyes. Like... like emeralds! Or very shiny parts of the ocean or water. The best bit, though, were the glasses.

A year or so ago, Alfred had gotten laser eye surgery. It meant that he could actually get lab goggles on his face without having everything digging into him. He had rejoiced! But, since then, for some reason, people with glasses really did it for him. It was stupid and strange – but the fact that this hot doctor was made all the hotter with those specs had him gasping in surprise. The doctor looked up at him and tilted his head before shrugging a shoulder and speaking.

With an English accent, the hottest of all accents.

"Hello, Mister Jones," he said. "I'm Doctor Kirkland." He glanced at Alfred's ankle. "I see your Christmas has been a bit _too_ merry, hm?"

"It's been awesome," Alfred replied, still a little awestruck. "And it just got more awesome."

Kirkland raised an eyebrow. "I see." He glanced at Matthew and Alfred pouted at the loss of his attention. "Well, I'm just going to take a look at your ankle. How are the painkillers treating you? If you start to feel ill, we'll have to change to a different kind, so let us know."

"If I feel ill, you'll come running?" asked Alfred, desperate to have Kirkland's eyes on him.

He rejoiced as Kirkland glanced up, evidently bemused. "Or one of the nurses, most likely Feli."

"Feli?"

"Feliciano."

"Ah." Why had Kirkland shortened Feliciano's name? Were they dating? Maybe Alfred should flirt with Kirkland to keep his attention. "Ah," he repeated, thinking of the absolute best way to flirt. "Doctor, doctor!"

Surprised, Kirkland blinked at him. "Yes?"

"If I go into cardiac arrest, will you give me mouth-to-mouth?" Alfred grinned at Kirkland, hoping that made his interest clear.

Frowning, Kirkland looked down at Alfred's ankle, across the bed to Matthew who was stifling giggles, and back to Alfred. "It's highly unlikely that you'll go into cardiac arrest-"

"I will if you stay around for long!" Alfred declared.

"Oh..." Kirkland stared at him blankly for a moment before his cheeks suddenly turned pink. He shook his head. "Is he always like this?" he asked Matthew.

"He gets a little... goofy, I suppose, when he's on strong enough painkillers," Matthew told him.

"I see."

"Didja not like that?" Alfred asked, feeling downheartened as Kirkland resolutely went back to gently inspecting what he could see above Alfred's boot. "I can tell you better jokes, if you'd like?"

"Will that make you feel better?" Kirkland asked, absently.

"Yeah. Though, it'd make me feel better if I could stare into those gorgeous eyes of yours."

Matthew snorted. Kirkland straightened, keeping his eyes down. "I'll need to remove his boot and sock," he said to Matthew.

"Ah! No! Don't ignore me!" Alfred cried with a pout.

Kirkland chuckled. "I can hardly do that, can I? Now, Mister Jones, you'll have to keep as still as possible while I remove this."

"You can remove more than just the one, y'know," said Alfred, winking at him.

Shaking his head, Kirkland began to untie the boot. "I only need to see this ankle, Mister Jones."

"Dontcha wanna see more of me?"

Carefully, Kirkland began to slide the boot off, keeping Alfred's foot as still as possible. "I'm not sure quite what you mean by that." Setting the shoe aside, Kirkland peeled Alfred's thermal sock away.

"Both."

"Both what?" asked Kirkland, sending Alfred a confused frown.

"Well, do you want to see me on a date with you? And do you want to see me, naked, on your be-"

"Al!" cried Matthew, knocking Alfred's train of thought completely off its tracks. "Stop!"

Blinking, Alfred looked between Matthew and Kirkland. "Huh?"

Cheeks pink, Kirkland continued prodding at Alfred's ankle. Little jolts of pain were quickly snuffed out by the painkillers. "Well," said Kirkland, "it's swollen quite a bit so I'm of the opinion that it's broken. We'll have to get you booked in for an x-ray to make sure before I can set it, if that's the case."

"Will it take long?" asked Matthew.

"No. Hopefully, it shouldn't be too long." Kirkland turned to Alfred. "I hope you've learnt to be a bit more careful... Actually, how _did_ you break your leg?"

"I was on the roof," said Alfred, without thinking. Kirkland's eyebrows raised, obviously incredulous. Alfred paused, knowing how silly he'd been to end up in the ER. But he wanted Kirkland to be impressed... "There was a cat," he settled on saying.

"A cat?"

"A kitten, I think. It was on the roof while we were playing in the snow. Mewing. It was so cute and I just _had_ to go rescue it. I'm always rescuing animals so I'm an expert-"

Matthew suddenly barked out a loud laugh. "Don't let him fool you, Doctor. He was playing in the snow with my son, making snowmen and having snowball fights but they left a large pile under the roof-"

"Mattie!" Alfred cried, aghast.

"-and Al here decided that sledding off the roof was a good idea."

"Oh, dear," said Kirkland, his lips twitching as he tried to stop himself smiling.

"But, by that point, my son had gotten tired and was more wary about the idea. So Al decided to show him there was nothing to worry about. His friend, Ivan, told him that 'snow is soft'."

"Oh, _no_ ," said Kirkland, grimacing. He pursed his lips, as if to keep himself from laughing.

"To demonstrate, Al jumped – feet first – into the snow drift. This is the end result."

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"It's not the first time he's jumped off a roof," Matthew continued, apparently warming up to his subject matter. Before Alfred could stop him, he forged on with the story when he noticed Kirkland's interested expression. "When we were kids, he wanted to be a superhero so bad. He jumped off the roof of this little shed thing onto a trampoline so he could 'fly'. So, no, he's probably not learned his lesson."

Kirkland finally cracked and laughed, his face lighting up completely. Alfred's heart entirely melted and he almost didn't want to stop it. But he couldn't not say the most perfect line.

"Have you got a defibrillator? 'Cause I think you just made my heart skip a beat."

The laughter stopped with a surprised gasp. Kirkland stared at Alfred for a second, eyes wide, cheeks getting redder by the second. Then he glanced at Matthew, gave them a weak smile and said, "I'll get someone to take you to the radiologist."

* * *

It was half an hour before Alfred was taken there; they had splinted his ankle to keep it still but it began to throb during the scan. Once he was returned to the bed, they gave him more painkillers. He waited for someone to come tell him what was happening with nurses popping in to attach things to the clipboard or make sure he was comfortable. At one point, Matthew got thirsty and went away to find something to drink.

And that was when Kirkland reappeared.

"Hello again, Mister Jones. How are you feeling?"

"All the better for seeing you," answered Alfred with a wink. He still felt a little out of it; flirting with the gorgeous man seemed like a great idea, especially when he gave him a surprised and bemused smile.

"Let's see what we need to do to get you home, Mister Jones."

"Alfred," he replied.

"Hm?" said Kirkland, looking a little concerned.

"You can call me Alfred."

"I see." Kirkland lifted the clipboard and quickly flipped through the pieces of paper. "Well, Alfred, it looks as if it's a pretty bad break. I'm going to have to realign the bones before I put a cast on it. Then you can go back to enjoying your Christmas day."

"Aren't you gonna tell me your name?" Alfred asked, pouting at the doctor.

Dr. Kirkland paused. "What do you mean? I already told you that I'm Doctor Kirkland..." The doctor walked around the bed, reaching up for his stethoscope. "Maybe those painkillers are too strong..." he murmured to himself.

" _No_ ," Alfred insisted. "I know your _doctor_ name. I wanna know your _real_ name."

Bemused again, Kirkland said, "And you don't think my 'doctor' name is my 'real' name?"

" _Doc_ ," Alfred whined, pouting as much as possible.

His doctor laughed. "My name is Arthur. And I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"'M'not _stupid_ ," Alfred insisted.

"Says the man who jumped off a roof."

Alfred grinned. When Arthur turned to walk off, Alfred quickly said, "Doctor, doctor!"

Pausing at the foot of the bed, Arthur turned his head to look over the top of his glasses at him. Alfred could tell that he was trying to look unimpressed – but failing. His mouth had curved up at one side so that he was half-smiling. Or smirking. Either way, he looked sexy as hell. "Hm?" he said.

"Do you have an inhaler? 'Cause you take my breath away."

Arthur rolled his eyes but his smile grew. "Get some rest, Alfred. You've had a long day."

Alfred thought about that and he suddenly realised how tired he was. He yawned and quickly nodded. "Sure thing, doc," he mumbled and closed his eyes.

* * *

A little while later, he was woken by his brother. "Come on, Al," he said. "The doctor has to set your bones."

"I don't want to wake you while I'm in the middle of this," Arthur added from his other side.

"Okay," Alfred said, tiredly. Hazy memories caught up with his brain and, with the befuddling drugs having mostly run their course, Alfred felt himself blushing. Had he really been flirting with this sexy doctor? God, he must have sounded so stupid. But... He remembered Arthur's smile and wondered if it had actually worked.

"I'm just going to give you something to numb your ankle. I'll set the bones and then we'll get the cast onto you." Arthur gestured behind him and Alfred blinked, his eyes focussing on Feliciano who stood nearby with two halves of a huge, white boot. The nurse gave him a cheery wave: Alfred waved back.

"Right," he said, eyes lowering to look at Arthur. The doctor was looking right at him and their eyes met. They held each other's gaze for a moment before Arthur wrenched his gaze downwards and to what he was doing.

It was amazing to watch Arthur work. His slim, delicate fingers danced across Alfred's ankle. The needle of the syringe darted in and out with ease: Alfred barely felt the prick. Then Arthur was carefully, gently touching his ankle and foot, easing it around until it was in the correct position. Never had Alfred so wished he'd never been giving the drugs to stop his pain – he wanted to be able to feel Arthur's hands on him. Once that had all been done, Feliciano helped to put the cast on. Finally, they both stepped away and Alfred now had a boot which he couldn't take off. He grimaced as both he and Matthew listened to what Arthur had to say about his proper care, handing a prescription over to Matthew so he could pick up more painkillers for him. Feliciano disappeared during the speech and returned with some crutches. He showed Alfred how to work them and handed them over.

"We'll just get you discharged," Arthur said, "and you can be on your way."

"Wait! Doc. You can't just cart me out like that," Alfred pleaded.

"What-?"

"You needta sign my cast!"

Arthur stared at him in surprise. "I'm not going to sign your cast," he told him. "It's only just set!"

"Al," said Matthew, a warning in his tone.

"Oh, please! I wanna remember to send you something as a thank you," Alfred added as he quickly racked his brain for something to say to encourage him to do it. He wanted to be able to look at it and remember the man; he may not know him very well but he liked him a lot and didn't want this last exchange to be final.

"We don't have a pen that will wor-" Arthur began.

"I do!" exclaimed Feliciano, bringing a marker out of his shirt pocket. Arthur stared at him.

"Why do you have that here? Those are supposed to be-"

"I thought you could use it for something, Arthur," said Feliciano, smiling wide.

Arthur's eyes narrowed, clearly suspicious. "Feli..."

"Can you?" Alfred asked, practically pleading.

Sighing, Arthur took the pen. "Oh, fine." He popped the lid off the pen and, quick as a flash, bent over Alfred's cast. Alfred could barely contain his excitement, practically vibrating as Arthur's hand curved over his ankle. When he finished, Arthur straightened, caught Alfred's gaze, glanced away, looked back – and smiled at him. "Have a good Christmas, Alfred," he said. And, after handing Feliciano the pen, he walked off at a brisk pace.

Grinning, Feliciano said, "I'll just get the discharge papers sorted out."

Once the nurse was gone, Alfred turned to Matthew, eyes wide. "I can't see it – what'd he write!"

Matthew stood (he looked rather amused), scurried around the bed and stared down at it. He laughed again, eyes scrunching up behind his glasses from the force of it. "I can't _believe_ you!" he cried.

"What? What?!"

"It says, 'I do know CPR' – and then he's written his number!"

Alfred was glad he was in the hospital because he felt a little faint from the shock. Thankfully, that didn't happen: he grinned and searched his pocket for his phone, demanding Matthew read off the number.

* * *

_**To Sexy Artie** _

_Im definitly gonna need that when I get 2 c u again!_

**Author's Note:**

> I used [this site](https://pickupline.net/occupation-pick-up-lines/doctor-nurse-hospital-pick-up-lines/) for some of the jokes.


End file.
